


Lost in the Code of Slytherin

by Arcturus1226



Series: The Dysfunctional Family of Snakes (and Others) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Being an Idiot, But is still a family, Gen, Harry Potter is Not the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), James Potter & Lily Evans Potter Live, M/M, Mentor Severus Snape, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prejudice Against Slytherins, Severus Snape Doesn't Get Paid Enough, Severus Snape is So Done, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Percy Weasley, Slytherin is a Dysfunctional Family, Slytherins Being Slytherins, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:01:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26073064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcturus1226/pseuds/Arcturus1226
Summary: Harry Potter is not the Boy-Who-Lived.He doesn’t need the fame or glory when he has a loving family. Sure, people may be calling him the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived rather than his own name, but Harry will find a way to be remembered as Harry Potter. Not brother to the Boy-Who-Lived. Just Harry.---“SLYTHERIN!”---With the Potter twins in different houses, Harry gains unlikely friendships and learns that Slytherin is more than its reputation. Now, if only they can figure out what Dumbledore is hiding in the third-floor corridor.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter & Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter & Original Character(s), Harry Potter & Slytherin Students, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: The Dysfunctional Family of Snakes (and Others) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892824
Comments: 10
Kudos: 167





	1. The Sorting Ceremony

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter. The rights to the franchise belong to J.K. Rowling. I only own the original characters.
> 
> After reading so many Slytherin Harry Potter and WBWL fanfictions, I decided to take a bit out of it myself.  
> This is my very first fanfiction, so feel free to critique me. Hopefully the characters aren't too OOC. I hope you enjoy it.  
> Hopefully updates will be weekly. Preferably Sunday.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Hogwarts!  
> Draco really needs to learn how to make friends. Elliot's such a cunning hat. Oh, and what's Dumbledore hiding?

“So is it true then? The Boy-Who-Lived has finally graced us with his presence at Hogwarts.”

Many gasps were audible throughout the chamber.

Harry Potter sighed. He looked up from the crowd of students to see a pale, pointed face boy with silver-blonde hair and cold grey eyes standing near the top of the staircase. The boy carried a wealthy air and a large amount of arrogance.

_ He must be Malfoy’s son _ , Harry thought. 

“Yeah, who’s asking?” a voice close to Harry responded. It came from Charlus Potter, Harry’s older twin brother and… the Boy-Who-Lived. 

The silver-blonde smirked and turned to Charlus. Behind him were two large boys that both held identical scowls.

“This here is Crabbe and that’s Goyle,” he said carelessly before walking up to the older twin. “And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

Another boy coughed, obviously trying to hide his amusement. Harry didn’t need to look around to know it was Ron Weasley, sixth child of the infamous red-headed and freckled Weasley family and Charlus’s best mate. Draco looked at Weasley.

“Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to introduce yourself. Red hair and freckles, you must be a Weasley. My father says your bunch has more children than they can afford.”

Harry can already picture scowled looks Weasley and Charlus had. He can see Malfoy holding out his hand to Charlus. “You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”

Harry groaned internally.  _ Malfoy really needs to learn how to make friends. _

His brother doesn’t take the hand. “I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thank you very much. Oh, and watch what you say about my best mate.”

Malfoy started to go pink. He looked like he wanted to say more, but long squeaks and spaced thumps stopped him. It was Professor Minerva McGonagall, or Aunt Minnie as the Potters liked to call her. Her face was painted stern, but her eyes held fondness.

“Now, form a line and follow me,” she ordered.

It was quickly done so with Harry trailing his brother. A pair of large wooden doors opened to the Great Hall. It was magnificent. Thousands of lit candles were in midair over four long, occupied tables were dressed with golden plates and goblets. Another long table located at the top of the hall was filled with much older people: their teachers. As they followed Professor McGonagall, the first years were admiring the velvety ceiling sprinkled with stars.

“It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside,” someone whispered. Hermione Granger, he believes, a witch the Potter twins and Ron met on the train. “I read about it in  _ Hogwarts, A History _ .”

After a quick admiration of the ceiling, Harry looked forward then stopped at the top to see a four-legged stool with a worn out hat in front of them. He looked at it incredulously. Silence filled the air for a moment before the hat started to twitch. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat started to... sing?

_ “Oh, you may not think I’m pretty, _

_ But don’t judge on what you see, _

_ I’ll eat myself if you can find _

_ A smarter hat than me. _

_ You can keep your bowlers black, _

_ Your top hats sleek and tall, _

_ For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat _

_ And I can cap them all. _

_ There’s nothing hidden in your head _

_ The Sorting Hat can’t see, _

_ So try me on and I will tell you _

_ Where you ought to be. _

_ You might belong in Gryffindor, _

_ Where dwell the brave at heart, _

_ Their daring, nerve, and chivalry _

_ Set Gryffindors apart; _

_ You might belong in Hufflepuff, _

_ Where they are just and loyal, _

_ Those patient Hufflepuffs are true _

_ And unafraid of toil; _

_ Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, _

_ If you’ve a ready mind, _

_ Where those of wit and learning, _

_ Will always find their kind; _

_ Or perhaps in Slytherin _

_ You’ll make your real friends, _

_ Those cunning folk use any means _

_ To achieve their ends. _

_ So put me on! Don’t be afraid! _

_ And don’t get in a flap!  _

_ You’re in safe hands (though I have none) _

_ For I’m a Thinking Cap!” _

The hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and became still once more.

“So we’ve just got to try on the hat!” Harry heard Ron whisper to Charlus. “I’ll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll.”

Harry shook his head. Did he really think teachers would purposely endanger the lives of their students just so they can determine where to go? Honestly, Hogwarts is supposed to be one of the safest places in the world.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward to gain the hall’s attention. She held a long roll of parchment that held a list of names. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hannah!”

A girl with blonde pigtails went up. She sat down on the stool and placed the hat on her head. At a moment’s pause-

“HUFFLEPUFF!” the hat shouted.

To their right, a table, the Hufflepuff table clapped for their newest member as she sat down. 

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” came from the hat once more and Susan followed suit as Hannah did.

_ I wonder what house I’ll be in. _

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

_ I don’t find myself particularly brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. _

“Brocklehurst, Mandy!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Brown, Lavender!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

_ Probably Gryffindor. Mom and Dad were there. So were Moony and Padfoot. That’s what people are expecting… _

“Bulstrode, Millicent!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

_ But what if I don’t want to follow expectations? _

Harry looked over as the newest Slytherin went over to the applauding table. Perhaps it was his imagination or what he had heard about Slytherins (courtesy of his father and Padfoot), but they didn’t seem very pleasant.  _ Maybe not Slytherin… _

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Finnigan, Seamus!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

_ Well, the hat’s definitely a thinking cap. Finnigan took some time. Almost a minute. _

“Granger, Hermione!”

Hermione seemed quite eager to get sorted.  _ She seemed quite knowledgeable. Probably a Ravenclaw. _

“GRYFFINDOR!”  _ Or not... _

Harry could hear Ron groan. It seems he didn’t want her in Gryffindor.  _ He’s probably confident he’d be in the house of lions like his family, but doesn’t he remember Percy’s sorting? You don’t always have to follow a path paved for you by others. _

“Longbottom, Neville!”

This boy walked up to the stool, but not before falling over. Poor guy. Harry knew Neville from a few playdates and parties they’d share in the past. Neville is a really nice boy and became a very good friend. Shy and unconfident, but maybe his housemates will build up that confidence.

Neville stayed under the hat for a while. Harry heard someone mutter about a hatstall in the back. After another moment of waiting, the hat finally called “GRYFFINDOR!” and Neville ran off with the hat and jogged back to give it to a “MacDougal, Morag.” Harry was amused by his childhood friend’s antics.

“Malfoy, Draco!”

Malfoy swaggered his way forward. The hat barely touched his head when it screamed, “SLYTHERIN!”

“Figured he’d be there,” Charlus muttered. “I doubt he could be any different than his father.”

Harry saw Ron nod in agreement.

There weren’t that many students now.

_ That doesn’t seem all that fair to judge someone by their parents. Sure, parents influence a child’s behavior and upbringing, but it doesn’t seem fair to think their children are the exact same thing. Wait. What if I end up in a different house than Gryffindor? Probably Hufflepuff. It seems like a nice house. I’m not particularly the reading type, so I doubt Ravenclaw. What about Slytherin? What were the traits of the house again? Cunning and ambitious, right? I don’t see myself with any of those traits, but what if I do end up there? What- _

“Potter, Charlus!”

“Wish me luck, Harry,” Charlus whispered in Harry’s ear. Charlus took a step forward and whispers broke out like wild fire in the hall.

“ _ Potter _ , did she say?”

“ _ The _ Charlus Potter?”

Charlus went up and the hat dropped over his eyes and Harry could feel people trying to get a good look at his brother. After a few seconds, the hat screamed, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The hall bursted with applause, but the Gryffindor table roared the loudest. Charlus winked at Harry as he went to the loudest table, his hazel eyes saying:  _ Meet you on the other side _ .

Harry turned his head to see many hands out before his brother as the Weasley twins, Fred and George, yelling: “We got Potter! We got Potter!” as if they wanted to rub it into the faces of others.

After a minute of excitement, “Potter, Hadrian” was finally called and the hall was once more taken over by whispers.

“ _ Potter _ , she said?”

“Charlus Potter’s  _ brother _ ?”

“Must be, they look identical.”

“Not the eyes though, definitely his mother’s.”

Yes, he gets that alot. Harry knows he’ll never be known more than the Boy-Who-Lived’s brother. He gets it every time they meet someone new. The Potter twins also resemble their father from the messy, jet-black hair to the tan skin. However, unlike the hazel eyes Charlus and his father share, Harry has his mother’s bright green eyes.

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was his brother shooting a pair of thumbs up. Then he saw the black inside of the sorting hat and waited.

“Hmm,” said a small voice in his ear. “Difficult. Very difficult.”

_ You’re the sorting hat, right? _ Harry thought curiously.

“Yep, that’s me. Though my name’s actually Elliot.”

_ Elliot? _

“Yes, a student I placed in Ravenclaw named me a few years ago.”

_ Who- _

“Now then, let’s get you sorted. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. Not too quick to judge. That’s good, very good. There’s talent, oh goodness, yes-and a thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting… So where shall I put you?”

_ … _

“How about Slytherin?”

_ WHAT? No- _

“You sure?” the hat-Elliot-sounded cunning. “Oh, that I am. I thought you weren’t quick to judge. Don’t you want to be more than the Boy-Who-Lived’s brother? Don’t you want to keep him safe? You don’t want to be in the shadows forever. I can see it. It’s all in your head, Slytherin will bring you to greatness and be more than what you already are, no doubt about it.”

_ But what would they say? My parents? My family? Charlus? _

“If they truly love you, the color of your robes won’t matter,” Elliot answered. “You’ll still be Harry, Mr. Potter. So what do you say? Stay in the shadows or fly high to greatness?”

_ Well, I heard it’s better to be great than average… _

“I guess we’ve come to an agreement.” Harry could hear triumph in the hat’s voice. Harry’s eyes widened. “Don’t forget to make your real friends in Slytherin as I said.”

“Wait, I-”

“Better be SLYTHERIN!”

Silence rang throughout the hall.  _ Slytherin _ echoing through the minds of others.

The new snake took a deep, shaky breath before removing the hat to the bright lights of the Great Hall. Everyone had their jaws dropped, eyes wide almost comically. Charlus though, Charlus had a different look. A look that made Harry feel guilty.

He carefully made his way down to the Slytherin table. He flashed a sad smile at Charlus and quickly sat down at his house’s table, next to a thin boy, Nott. A flash of red caught his eye and Harry turned to see Percy Weasley. The red head gave him a soft smile with his eyes carrying reassurance. Harry hopes everything will be alright; the looks of his housemates make his stomach turn.

After another moment's shock, Professor McGonagall (thankfully) continued the sorting with “Thomas, Dean” going to Gryffindor and “Turpin, Lisa” in Ravenclaw. 

Then, “Weasley, Ronald” was up. Harry thought he looked green. A second past before the hat screamed, “GRYFFINDOR!” The said table cheered with Ron eagerly sitting next to Charlus and the Weasley twins ruffling his hair. Harry couldn’t help but feel jealous of the boy, but he kept his face indifferent.

Finally, “Zabini, Blaise” was made a Slytherin to conclude the sorting. Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll and collected Elliot from the stool.

Harry looked down to his empty golden plate. He was told the Great Feast was grand, but he wasn’t sure if he was willing to eat. His stomach was still turned from his own sorting. 

From the top of the hall, an old wizard with a very long beard rose. It was Albus Dumbledore. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

“Welcome!” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

“Thank you!”

He sat back down. The Slytherin table clapped politely while everybody else clapped and cheered. Food had graced the tables and everyone started to eat and converse. Harry raised an eyebrow.

_ Is he always this mad? _

“Mad?” someone said airily. Harry didn’t realize he said it out loud and saw Malfoy with an amused expression. “Father says he’s the worst thing that has ever set foot on Hogwarts. He’s still trying to get the school board to fire him.”

Harry didn’t know what to say about that. He feels like he should be defending Dumbledore. After all, his family always holds Dumbledore in high regards. However, every time he comes to visit, Harry can’t help but find the old wizard to be very strange and he is quite old.

All Harry did was shrug. He knows that the Malfoys have different opinions than his family. It’s best not to make an enemy of his house than he already is. Although, he didn’t see the curious look Malfoy shot him.

A few minutes into the dinner, another first year leaned forward to Harry.

“So, what’s a lion doing here in the house of snakes?” he asked. It was Blaise Zabini, the last one to be sorted.

“The hat placed me here,” Harry answered as if it was the most obvious answer.

“I know that, but why?”

Harry looked down at his food and furrowed his eyebrows. “Apparently it's better to be great than average.”

“Well, obviously,” Malfoy boasted. “All great things happen in Slytherin, people just don’t acknowledge it because  _ they _ think they’re better than us. Your brother should’ve realized that. Now he’s slumming with the Gryffindors.”

“Well maybe if you knew how to make friends, perhaps you and my brother would be wonderful allies if not friends,” Harry retorted.

Sniggers can be heard from the first years.

“I  _ do  _ know how to make friends!” Malfoy exclaimed, offended. “It’s your brother who needs to know how to tell who’s the wrong sort.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him and sighed. He placed his hand out toward Malfoy. “I feel like your interaction with my brother is getting us on the wrong foot. I’m Hadrian Potter, though if we’re going to be roommates for the next seven years I prefer Harry.”

Malfoy huffed, but took the hand and shook it. “I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. Feel free to call me Draco. You seem much better than your Gryffindork brother.”

Zabini held out his hand to Harry as well. “Blaise Zabini. It seems we’ll have a prat for a roommate.”

Harry shook it and laughed.

“Blaise!” Draco whined. “You’re supposed to be my best friend! And I am not a prat.”

“I beg to differ.”

A few giggles come from the first year girls. After the laughter dispersed, the rest of the first years introduced themselves. The thin boy next to Harry introduced himself as Theodore Nott, but specifically asked to go by Theo. Draco introduced his too ‘bodyguards’ (Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle) who grunted in response. There were four girls sorted into Slytherin: a pug-faced girl named Pansy Parkinson, a pretty blonde named Daphne Greengrass, a frizzy haired Millicent Bulstode, and Tracey Davis who had red brown hair.

The first years continued to converse before Harry asked who their teachers were. Harry already Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, and Madam Promfrey through his parents. Though, he didn’t know anyone else.

Percy, who was only a few students down, named the staff (Madam Pince the librarian, Professor Sprout the Herbology teacher, Professor Vector who teaches Arithmancy, etc) up until a man with a purple turban.

“The one with the purple turban is Professor Quirrell,” Percy said. “He used to teach Muggle Studies. Now, he’s the new DADA teacher.”

Harry nodded. Then he spotted a man with black greasy hair and a scowled expression. “Who’s the one next to him? He doesn’t seem particularly happy.”

“That there is Professor Snape,” Percy answered. “He’s our potions teacher. Extremely strict, but reasonable when handling the delicate art of potions making.”

“Yeah, the most I've ever gotten from him was an adequate,” said a muscular upperclassman with crooked teeth. “He’s also the head of Slytherin. He favors us just like Dumbledore favors the Gryffindors.”

“ _ Headmaster _ Dumbledore, Marcus,” Percy huffed. “Although, you’re not wrong.”

Harry eyed Professor Snape.  _ Snape. Where have I heard that name? _

Harry’s thoughts wandered until a transparent figure popped up from the roasted chicken. He looked horrible with the blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. Draco shifted away from the ghost. Harry didn’t blame him.

“Er, good evening,” Harry greeted, visibly uncomfortable.

“Good evening, snakeling,” the ghost said. “I am the Bloody Baron. Please do bring Slytherin a good year. I need an excuse to brag to Nearly Headless Nick.”

Before Harry could ask, disgusted noises can be heard on the other side of the hall. He looked over to see a ghost swung his whole head off and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously failed to behead him.

“Why are you covered in blood?” Blaise asked.

The Bloody Baron turned to Blaise and gave a cryptic answer: “I could tell you, but I would have to find a way to end you.”

Blaise paled at that and went back to his dinner. “Nevermind.”

When everyone ate as much as they could, the food at the table cleared, leaving the plates sparkling and clean. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor imaginable, pies of every kind, treacle tarts, doughnuts, fruit, Jell-O, puddings…

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the conversation turned to their families.

Well, more of social standings in the wizarding world…

Harry, Tracey, and Millicent were all half bloods while the rest of the first years came from pureblood families. Draco tried to brag about his family until someone told him to shut up. Harry didn’t know who it was, but it got Draco to shut his mouth. Harry silently thanked whoever it was.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

“Ahem-just a few words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

“First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”

Dumbledore flashed his eyes to Fred and George Weasley.

“I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch.

“And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few that did.

“He’s not serious?” he muttered.

“Must be,” Percy heard Harry. “It’s odd Dumbledore hasn’t told us since he would normally tell the prefects. Perhaps it’s something very valuable or dangerous itself.”

“Oh yes, the great Albus Dumbledore with way too many names,” Marcus remarked. “‘I have something that horrible criminals want or is very dangerous. Where shall I put it? Oh, I know, a school full of curious children. Just let me give them a warning to not go to the location it’s at.’ Knowing him, it’s like he’s asking kids to put themselves in danger.”

Those who heard were doing their best to hold themselves together.

“Told ya he’s barmy,” Draco muttered while grinning. Harry didn’t disagree.

“And now, before we go off to bed, let us sing the school song!” Dumbledore flicked his wand and a long golden ribbon flew above the high table. “Everyone pick their favorite tune and off we go!”

Words appeared on the ribbon and the school bellowed:

_ “Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, _

_ Teach us something please, _

_ Whether we be old and bald _

_ Or young we scabby knees, _

_ Our heads could do with filling _

_ With some interesting stuff, _

_ For now they’re bare and full of air, _

_ Dead flies and bits of fluff, _

_ So teach us things worth knowing, _

_ Bring back what we’ve forgot, _

_ Just do your best, we’ll do the rest, _

_ And learn until our brains all rot.” _

Everybody finished at different times with the Weasley twins finishing it off in a slow funeral march.

“Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”


	2. Of Gossip, Letters, and Acceptance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after the sorting ceremony and there's a lot of gossiping in the air. What are the Potters reaction to Harry's sorting and what do they think?

“There, look.”

_Dear Mom, Dad, and Rosie,_

“Where?”

“Next to the pale boy.”

“The one writing?”

“Plans for world domination, I assume.”

_Hogwarts is brilliant. I haven’t gone to any of my classes yet, but I’m excited to start._

“Did you read the Prophet?”

“Yeah, who hasn’t?”

“Betcha the Potters are disappointed.”

_You may or may have not read the Prophet yet, or you must’ve heard it from someone else, but…_

“Such good people too.”

“Except that one; black sheep of the family if I ever saw one.”

“Smiled at his sorting.”

“The next Dark Lord.”

“Shame, his family must be so embarrassed.”

_...I’m in Slytherin. I hope that’s alright._

As Harry Potter wrote his letter to his family, rumors and gossip about his sorting filled the air of the Great Hall. He didn’t think it was a problem. Sure, he was a little disappointed it wasn’t Gryffindor and a little (read: very) shocked, but he can’t change anything about it.

He also knows better than to believe biased opinions and rumors. However, all those whispers were making his stomach upset and a little self-conscious. He knows his family wouldn’t care, especially his mother.

“No matter the house, make us proud” she said as he and Charlus boarded the Hogwarts Express.

Harry smiled at the memory. He knows his mother wouldn’t allow something as petty as being in a different house affect how much she loves him. She would probably hex his father into oblivion if he dared to make Harry upset about being in Slytherin.

He shook his head fondly and petted Hedwig, his owl who was picking at his food. He was being ridiculous. 

_The dorms here aren’t quite what you described it to be. It’s a little dark and cold, but it’s kinda cozy down here. We went over regular school orientation, but the Head of Slytherin told us there was an extra special orientation just for Slytherin this weekend. If possible, I’ll tell you what it’s like. Also, the head is Professor Severus Snape; he looks like a grumpy bat. His name sounds familiar. Have you mentioned him before?_

_There’s a lot of Slytherins in my year. There’s Draco, Theo, Blaise, Vincent, Greg, Pansy, Daphne, Tracey, and Milli. They’re a unique bunch, but it’s better than boring. Draco doesn’t seem to know how to make friends and is sort of a prat, but I’m sure he’ll get better in the future._

_Oh yeah, Charlus, Ron and Neville are in Gryffindor. I was a little surprised by Neville’s sorting. He always pegged me as the Hufflepuff type. He’s too nice. Nevertheless, I am proud of him. Hopefully Gryffindor will bring him out of his shell._

“Harry, we have an hour before class starts. If you want that letter to reach your parents by noon, it’s best you do it now.”

“Okay. Thanks Blaise.”

_Well, I must be going. Classes start in a few minutes. I’ll write another letter by the end of the week, so expect another one in a few days._

_Wish me luck._

_Love, Harry_

Before Harry folded up the letter to give to Hedwig, he wrote a short postscript.

_P.S. Dumbledore said something about the third-floor corridor being dangerous and warned us not to go there. My housemates said it must be something actually dangerous or something very valuable. What do you think?_

* * *

Charlus Potter considered himself to be a privileged boy. He had everything he could ever ask for: a loving family, a large home, friends, full stomachs… He also had things anyone could dream of: fame, money, and the love of the world. So yes, he was indeed very privileged.

And with the title of being the Boy-Who-Lived, there would be many hands in the offer of friendship.

One Draco Malfoy for example…

“You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter,” the pale boy had said. “You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”

This boy was arrogant. No doubt about it, and does this boy even know how to make friends? After recently insulting his best mate just seconds before, Charlus did the honorable thing and put the pale boy in his place: “I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thank you very much. Oh, and watch what you say about my best mate.”

At his refusal, Malfoy looked like he’d been slapped in the face and his grey eyes held a warning: _You’ll regret this._

_With your family, I highly doubt it._

And Charlus was right.

“SLYTHERIN!”

At the name of the house, the arrogant boy strutted to the cheering table. _The hat didn’t even touch his head._

“Figured he’d be there,” Charlus muttered. “I doubt he could be any different than his father.”

He saw his red-headed friend nod.

Draco Malfoy was a miny Lucius Malfoy. Like his father, he wore arrogance and held prejudiced views close to his heart. “Don’t let first impressions be the judgement of how someone is” Lily Potter had said. He tried to listen to her, but he doubted this boy would change for a while and Slytherin was just sealing the deal.

Then minutes later, “Potter, Charlus” was called and the whispers began.

“ _Potter_ , did she say?”

“ _The_ Charlus Potter?”

Charlus went up and the hat obscured his view.

“Ah, Charlus Potter, I was wondering when I would come to see you,” the hat said. “Now where shall I put you? Very brave, very brave. Oh yes. I know… GRYFFINDOR!”

The Great Hall cheered, but no one was louder than the table of lions.

“We got Potter! We got Potter!” cheered the Weasleys twins, Fred and George.

He smiled at their antics and went down to the Gryffindor table. On the way, he passed by Harry and shot him a wink. _Meet you on the other side._

After all the excitement, his brother’s name was called and whispers followed him as they did for Charlus.

Harry placed the hat on his head, the hat started its mutterings, and Charlus waited. 

And waited…

“Must be another hat stall,” someone muttered.

Charlus frowned. He would’ve thought Harry would be in Gryffindor, just like him. Their parents were Gryffindors, and so were Uncle Padfoot and Moony. If not the house of lions despite being raised by some, then where? _Ravenclaw? Harry was quite the observer and was always curious and ready to learn something new. Maybe Hufflepuff? Harry held many of the badger house traits: kind, caring, hardworking, loyal, and very open-minded. It’s possible the hat was having difficulty deciding between the two. What about Slytherin?_ Charlus shook his head. His sweet and caring little brother couldn’t be a snake. (Sure, he may hold a small grudge toward Slytherin because of past experiences, but that doesn’t mean he finds the house to be _totally_ evil) Harry wasn’t the bold type nor was he cunning. Maybe ambitious, but not cunning.

“Wait, I-” Charlus heard. He quickly looked up.

“Better be SLYTHERIN!”

_WHAT?!_

That was on everyone’s minds. How in the name of Merlin did sweet, kind, loving and loyal Harry be in _Slytherin?_

_Do I not know my brother that well? Did I do something to hurt him and make him turn on me? Wait-did_ Malfoy _do something? (He better not hurt Harry!) Does Harry feel alone or isolated? Did_ we _do something bad to Harry? Did_ I _do something?_

As Charlus ran his thoughts, soft clicks could be heard in the distance. Charlus looked at Harry and green met hazel.

_Sorry_ his eyes had said as a sad and almost regretful smile flashed him.

He didn’t realize it until later that night, but Harry was shaking and paled drastically as he went to Slytherin’s table. No one cheered for his brother and nobody (not that Charlus knew) gave any reassurance.

The rest of the feast was almost a blur. He remembers Ron got sorted into Gryffindor and Nearly Headless Nick pulling his head off. He briefly remembers the Slytherin table snickering with Harry and a bit of sadness panging his heart.

Harry was in Slytherin. That’s all Charlus could think about and… he never felt so lost.

The thought kept him up and plagued his dreams. The next morning, Charlus woke up a little later than his roommates. When he walked down to the Great Hall and saw Hercules (his owl) waiting for him with the Daily Prophet, Charlus almost burned the paper.

_Seriously?! (no pun intended, Uncle Padfoot) Do they even know Harry?_ he thought; he started to see red. The shock of Harry being sorted into Slytherin be damned! Charlus could not believe the nerve of these people! Mom and Dad are not going to be happy.

After getting his schedule, Charlus went off to search for Harry (he was not in the Great Hall, Charlus checked). A couple of turns and flights of stairs, the Boy-Who-Lived found himself to the doors to the Owlery. 

Before he opened the door, he heard some laughter and voices. He opened the door. Malfoy was there, a dark skinned boy, and so was a familiar face with a snowy owl.

“Oh, Charlus!”

“Harry…”

* * *

Harry turned around when the door to the Owlery opened.

“Oh, Charlus!”

“Harry…” his brother looked to the other figures in the room. He glared at the sight of Malfoy before turning back to Harry, eyes softening. “So who’s your other friend? You and I already know Malfoy.”

“Blaise Zabini,” the dark skinned boy said.

Charlus nodded.

“Are you also sending a letter?” Harry asked.

Charlus shook his head. “No, I was looking for you and was hoping to have a short talk. Alone.”

“Ah,” Harry turned to his roommates and signaled them to leave. Draco left immediately, but Blaise raised an eyebrow before following the pale boy.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

Charlus was silent for a moment. “Are the Slytherin dorms like Dad and Uncle Padfoot said?”

Harry chuckled. “No, not really. While a bit dark and cold, oddly cozy and of course, highly prestigious.”

“Is everyone treating you alright?”

“Yeah. They are not all like Draco, and if I have any problems, I’m sure a teacher or Percy could help.”

“True. Though if anyone is giving you a tough time, you can come to me or the twins and we’ll give them a reason to leave you alone.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Charlus, I don’t need you to fight my battles, and Dad said we shouldn’t start pranking until at least the fourth week of school.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” his brother brushed off.

They stayed silent for a moment.

“So,” Charlus broke the silence. “Who’s the Head of Slytherin?”

“Professor Severus Snape, he’s also the potions teacher,” Harry answered.

“SNIVELLUS?!”

Ah, that’s why his name seemed familiar.

“We’re doomed.”

* * *

Lily Potter frowned at the Daily Prophet. It was ridiculous; it was hinted at with prejudice and made a big deal about a child’s sorting. _Her_ child’s sorting. How in the name of Merlin are they allowed to publish such crap like this?

_Harry Potter: Brother of the Boy-Who-Lived in SLYTHERIN?_

_By: Rita Skeeter_

_Last night was September 1, 1991, the time of the year where all the little wizards and witches of eleven years and older are off to Hogwarts! This year also happens to be the year the Boy-Who-Lived, Charlus Potter, starts his wizarding journey. As you would expect, he was sorted into the brave and chivalrous house of lions: Gryffindor._

_It also happens his younger twin brother, Hadrian “Harry” Potter, comes along for the journey. As the students and staff of Hogwarts waited, the young boy became one of the hatstalls of the night. Before anyone could take a guess at his house, the hat proclaimed: “Better be SLYTHERIN!”_

_I repeat, Harry Potter, brother to the Saviour of the wizarding world, was sorted into the cunning and ambitious house of Slytherin. As you would expect, this was too shocking for Hogwarts to applaud. According to my sources, who wish to remain anonymous, stated “He walked down to the Slytherin table and flashed a_ smile _at Charlus Potter.”_

_A smile they say? Slytherin does have a reputation for being one with the dark ways. It was also rumored that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came from this very house. Is it possible Charlus Potter’s little brother agrees with You-Know-Who’s ideals? Is Harry Potter interested in the dark arts like so many had before in Slytherin? Was the smile possibly a warning?_

_My dear readers, this writer is curious and is going to get to the bottom of it. Stay tuned my dear readers!_

Yup, it was ridiculous. Who’s running the daily Prophet these days?

Lily shook her head. She didn’t care that her son was in Slytherin. Sure, it’s surprising considering Harry was sorted there, but Lily wouldn’t care what her son was. Her children could be gay, trans, intelligent in unconventional ways, heck, they could be part werewolf for all she cared! She loved her children no matter what.

However, her youngest son’s sorting did make her think carefully. Did Harry have some traits she didn’t notice before that would cause him to be in Slytherin? Or was it something else? To be honest, she wouldn’t be surprised if Harry felt overshadowed by Charlus’s fame. Nobody other than family and friends addresses Harry by his real name. Perhaps he wanted to make a name for himself…

“Mommy?”

Lily pulled out of her thoughts and looked down to the voice. She smiled. “Yes, Rosemary?”

“When can we wake up Daddy? I want to show him my new drawing.”

Her daughter held up a picture that was drawn as any eight year old could. There were eight figures; three with identical black hair and round glasses, two with red hair, one with long black hair, another that was very tall with brown hair and a short girl with brown hair all next to a bright red train. Lily could tell right away that it was when they were at Platform 9 ¾ the day before.

“It looks wonderful, sweetie,” Lily complimented. “Why don’t you go ahead and wake up your father now. It’s almost noon, and I’m sure you’re getting hungry.”

The young girl nodded and dashed out the kitchen door. Lily called the house elves to start preparing lunch as she set the table. A moment later, thumpings can be heard outside the kitchen. Rosemary had her father, James, by the hand as he yawned with the picture in his other.

“Morning, Lily-flower,” James greeted as he kissed her forehead. Lily returned the gesture.

“The house elves are preparing lunch, it’ll be done in a bit.”

James nodded. His tired hazel eyes wandered to the paper on the table. He picked it up and read the headline. His eyes widened comically.

“Harry… our sweet Harry is in…”

“Yup.”

James scanned the article and his eyes hardened.

“And they’re writing _that?_ ”

“Yes.”

“Would we get in trouble if we sent dungbombs to the Daily Prophet?”

Lily laughed. Yup, that was her James; always wanting to prank people in the defense of his family. After overcoming her laughter, she turned to James with a smile.

He gave her a look as if he was asking for permission. “Well, can we?”

She shook her head. “Not now. If they continue to call our sweet boy a villain, don’t forget to invite me.”

James smirked. “Will do. Though, you gotta admit Harry being in Slytherin is unexpected.”

Lily agreed. Her boy was always so sweet and curious for his age. Innocent too. They’d always thought Harry would be a Hufflepuff when he went to Hogwarts if not a Gryffindor. Not that they would mind. Like his wife, James could have cared less about his son’s sorting and loved his son regardless.

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” James asked.

“Hopefully,” Lily said. “Isn’t Molly’s son, Percy, in Slytherin? He seemed alright last time we visited. A bit reserved, but alright.”

James opened his mouth but the sound of tapping on the glass interrupted them. They both turned to see a snowy owl with a letter attached to it.

“Oh, it’s Hedwig,” Lily said. “Harry must’ve written already!”

Rosemary dashed over to open the window and Hedwig flew in. James took the letter and began to read it aloud. Until he reached the part about the head of Harry’s house, he gasped.

“Snivellus?!” he yelled in disbelief. “That batty snake is the head of Slytherin?!”

“James!”

“What? Lily, it’s _Snivellus._ ”

Lily huffed. “I thought you got over that stupid rivalry.”

James put his hand up defensively. “And I did. It’s just-it’s _him_.”

His red-headed wife shook her head and ordered James to finish the letter. He obliged.

“‘ _P.S. Dumbledore said something about the third-floor corridor being dangerous and warned us not to go there. My housemates said it must be something actually dangerous or something very valuable. What do you think?_ ’ Huh, what do we think? I know: it’s something that is supposedly dangerous, but is actually something Dumbledore’s secret!”

“ _James_ ,” Lily said. “Don’t put any ideas in your children’s heads. They must remain as innocent as possible. I blame you for every bad choice they make.”

“You wound Lily-flower. You wound me.”

“I know.”

“But still, _Snivellus_? Really? You have to admit he was a grumpy bat back then. According to Harry, he still is.”

“ _James_.”

“Sorry.”

…

“What does ‘Snivellus’ mean?”

“Nothing Rosie dear.”

* * *

Classes that day were interesting to say the least. 

Herbology was taught by a dimpy woman named Professor Sprout. She was very enthusiastic about the subject. As she went over safety regulations, Harry could feel the uncomfortable stares from the Ravenclaws across the greenhouse.

Then Slytherins were in Professor Flitwick’s class, who was part goblin and taught Charms. When he took roll call, he got excited and toppled down the pile of books he stood on once he reached Harry’s name. 

History of Magic was really boring. It was taught by Professor Binns who happened to be the most boring ghost ever. After taking roll call, the ghost went on and on about goblin wars. Harry had difficulty staying up as Professor Binn had a voice that bored people to death. Harry wasn’t the only one though, Crabbe and Goyle were knocked and the Hufflepuffs (whom they shared a class with) were drifting off.

The final class of the day was with Aunt Minnie, or Professor McGonagall when she was teaching. She taught transfiguration. Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the slightest bit of awkwardness. After all, she was practically the Potters’ grandmother-like figure and it was a common thought to think Harry would be in Gryffindor.

“Mr. Potter, please stay after class for a few minutes,” she asked before Harry dashed for the door.

His classmates snickered, but ceased once they saw the Gryffindor head send them a stern look.

“Er, what did you want to talk about, Aunt-Professor?” Harry asked, unsure of how to address her.

The teacher raised an eyebrow. “What? No ‘Aunt Minnie’?”

“Well…”

“You thought just because I’m not the head of your house that you think you can’t call me ‘Aunt Minnie’, did you not?”

“Er…” Harry wasn’t about to admit his insecurities right away. To be honest, the reaction of his parents and all those he cared about were what scared him the most. He wasn’t sure whether they would accept him or not.

McGonagall placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him.

“There is no need to feel insecure about being a Slytherin,” she said. “You are still the special Harry we all know and love. If anything, being in Slytherin makes you even more special.”

Harry smiled at her words. “Thanks, Aunt Minnie.”

“Anytime Harry. Now, you must get going. If you’re anything like your father, you’d be interested in what rooms Hogwarts has.”

Harry and McGonagall bid each other goodbye with the promise tea over the weekend. As Harry headed out, he saw Draco, Blaise, and Theo waiting for him.

“Slytherins stick together, Potter,” Draco stated, as he saw Harry’s questioning look. “It’s one of the first rules of the Slytherin Code.”

“The what?”

“You’ll learn about it in the Slytherin Orientation this weekend,” Theo stated. 

“Er, okay.”

A moment of silence passed before Draco signalled them to follow him. Eventually, they found themselves at the library. “We have some reading and homework to do,” Draco said. They went to a table where the other Slytherins were located. A few hours later, a prefect came to collect them, informing them about dinner starting soon. They abandoned their table and went to the Great Hall.

On the way they ran into Charlus.

“Hello, Charlus,” Harry greeted. “How was class today for you?”

“Brilliant,” he said, pulling something out of his bag. “I went up to the Owlery earlier to deliver my letter. Hedwig was there with a letter. I think it’s from Mom and Dad.”

Harry thanked him and offered to go with him to the Great Hall, but Charlus politely declined (much to Draco’s delight) saying he was going to drop his stuff off at the Gryffindor tower. At his departure, the Slytherins continued their journey to dinner. Eventually, they reached their destination and began their meal.

Harry opened his letter and started to read.

_Harry dearest,_

_I cannot believe you ask if it’s alright to be in Slytherin. Of course it’s alright. It’s better than alright. I admit it was a little surprising to hear about your sorting, we are very proud of you._

_Your father was being a little difficult. Not about your sorting of course. He too was surprised, but happy for you. He was being difficult about the head of your house, Snape. Let’s just say we didn’t have the best history with each other._

_Also, if Professor Snape pulls you over to have a talk or suspiciously smells like dungbombs, blame your father._

_Knowing your brother, he may be as much as a troublemaker as your father, so hopefully whatever traits you get from Slytherin will rub on him. I am so glad he has you for a brother. Make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble. I expect him to do the same for you._

_And about whatever Dumbledore is hiding in the third corridor, I don’t know about it. I’ll be writing to him about this. I’d also advise you and your brother to avoid that area. If I find out you went there, expect a howler._

_Also, have a good evening. We are very proud of you. Congratulations on being sorted into Slytherin and the green will bring out the green eyes you and I both share. We love you very much. Remember, if you have any problems: go to a teacher, go to the head of your house, go to Aunt Minnie, go to your headmaster, go to your brother, or if any of those options are not viable, send a letter to us._

_Make us proud, sweetie._

_Love,_

_Mom and Dad_

_P.S. Rosie says hi and don’t forget to write to your uncles._

After reading the letter, Harry felt more loved than ever. He was worrying for nothing. His parents loved him and even congratulated on his sorting. He was grateful that his family was so accepting.

Seeing the smile on Harry’s face, Blaise asked, “What’s got you so happy?”

“Acceptance,” Harry responded as he continued his dinner, still smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As interesting as all the other WBWL and Harry is not the BWL fanfictions, I highly doubt his parents would be horrible towards him. In canon, Lily and James died for him. They DIED. For Harry. Even if Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived, I'm sure they would treat any other children they had equally.


	3. The Potions Master (AKA The Grumpy Dungeon Bat of Slytherin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new player has entered the field.  
> ENTER: The Potions Master

The next few days were interesting.

The rumors created by Rita Skeeter and stares still followed Harry, but dulled down ever since Charlus proudly proclaimed that he loved his brother at dinner on the first day. He even went as far as hugging Harry and eating dinner that night and breakfast the next morning with him at the Slytherin table despite the criticizing looks. 

Of course, this did lead to much disgust and distrustfulness from most of his house, but Harry was just glad that Charlus was on his side.

Some older Slytherins were audible about their thoughts on him, calling him names and sending a few jinxes his way. However, Percy was willing to punish his own house and take points off or give detention in favor to ignoring it.

The other Slytherins in Harry’s year stuck close with him to each class and barely left him alone. They have gone to all their classes except for Potions by the third day and Harry was dreading it. All of the other classes had nice teachers, save for Professor Binns’ boring lectures and Professor Quirrell’s stuttering mess and whose room gave him headaches. He hasn’t met Professor Sinistra who taught Astronomy, a class he’ll have around midnight with the Hufflepuffs, but good things have been said about her. Professor Snape however, gave chills down Harry’s spine.

Ever since Harry found out that the Potions Master was the Snivellus from the Marauders’ stories, he became paranoid around the older wizard. He always sent unnerving glares and held a grim expression (even though Charlus thinks it’s his natural expression) around the Potter twins. If looks could kill, Harry’s sure he should be at his own funeral now.

“What class do we have today, Draco?” Harry asked at breakfast.

“Double Potions with the Gryffindors,” Draco answered, to which Harry groaned. “Shame it’s with them, but at least it’s taught by Uncle Sev. The Gryffindors will get the humiliation they deserve.”

Harry opened his mouth to defend the lions, but something else came out: “Uncle Sev?”

The blonde stiffened and his face tinted pink. “Professor Snape’s my godfather. He taught me all that I know about potions. After all, Malfoys need to be better than everyone else.”

Despite his embarrassed state, Draco’s voice was still filled with professionalism and a teaspoon of boastfulness.

Harry furrowed his black eyebrows and mouth had thinned. While he wasn’t excited about Potions, his roommate’s behavior and words left an unsettling feeling in his stomach.

* * *

Potions lessons were held in the dungeons. Unlike the common rooms, the classroom lacked the heating charms the Slytherin dorms had so graciously had. It was cold and dark; glass jars sitting on the shelves had animals and strange substances inside. Pewter cauldrons were placed on the wooden tables and students looked to the front in either disgust, fear, or respect at the professor, who looked as if he belonged in the room.

Like Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape took the role call at the start of class. After several names, he paused.

“Ah, yes,” he said softly. “Charlus Potter. Our new- _ celebrity _ .”

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands while Harry suppressed a frown.

“Hmm,” the man turned to Harry with the list of students in hand, a voice becoming sinister. “And his brother, Hadrian Potter.”

The two held eye contact for a moment before the roll call continued. Once he finished, he looked up and his cold black eyes glaring at the class.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he began. His words were barely audible, but every word he said kept the class silent. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death-if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

At the last sentence, the greasy haired male eyed the Gryffindors. His voice sounded miserable and as if he barely tolerated them. Harry and Charlus shared a glance with raised eyebrows. A girl with bushy brown hair, Hermione Granger, was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn’t a dunderhead.

“Potter!” Snape said suddenly.

The Potter twins straightened their backs and looked to Snape, who realized that there were two Potters. Both looked at each other before staring at their teacher. The older man scowled before muttering something along the lines of “Pain in the arse.”

“The Gryffindor one!” he decided. He walked over to Charlus before questioning him. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

At this, Granger shot her hand up. Charlus and Ron looked dumbfounded while Harry made a face.  _ What is Snape playing at? _

“I don’t know, sir,” Charlus answered.

Snape’s lips curled into a sneer. “Tut, tut-fame clearly isn’t everything.”

Granger’s hand was ignored.

“Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

Granger, whose hand was still raised, went even higher without leaving her seat. Much of Slytherin were hiding their amusement poorly while Harry shot his housemates a disapproving glare.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?”

Harry saw that his brother was beginning to lose his temper. The two had indeed read their books,  _ One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _ and  _ Magical Drafts and Potions _ . However, did their teacher really expect children to remember everything in a book? 

This wasn’t going to end well.

“What's the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

Granger shot out of her seat in desperation to answer, but Charlus was able to answer it.

“Nothing, sir,” he answered, almost smirking. “They’re the same plant. It’s just the name that’s different.”

Snape sneered. “A point will be taken for your arrogance, Mr. Potter. Such behavior will not be tolerated in my class and shouldn’t be in any other.”

He snapped at Granger to sit down before going back to the Gryffindor he questioned. “For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. Also, while you are correct about the question you were  _ actually able to answer _ , wolfsbane also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren’t you all copying down?”

A sudden wave of rummaging for quills and parchment rushed over the class for notes.

Professor Snape paired up students together; Harry ended up with Draco. They were all assigned with the task to brew a simple potion to cruel boils. The professor swept around the room menacingly and criticized everyone, save for Malfoy who was gently praised and Harry who was ignored. Harry’s partner whispered a few instructions and stopped him from making mistakes so that his potion was at least adequate.

On the other side of the classroom, Neville Longbottom had somehow managed to melt a sandy-haired Gryffindor’s cauldron into a twisted blob, and both potions mixed together began to seep across the floor, burning holes into whomever’s shoes it touched. At that, the whole class was up on their stools to avoid the acid-like substance while Neville was moaning in pain with red boils as the potion had spilled on him.

“Idiot boy!” Snape snarled. He quickly waved his wand and the potion disappeared at once. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

Neville whimpered.

“You,” Snape spat at the sandy-haired boy. “Take Longbottom to the hospital wing.”

He rounded on Charlus and Ron, who had been nearby Neville. “Why didn’t any of you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he’d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? A point will be taken from Gryffindor once more.”

Charlus opened his mouth while Harry tried to catch his attention and mouthed at him not to respond back. He could already see his brother’s temper building up The Slytherins, sans Harry, were grinning and hoped for the Golden Boy to lose more points.

“We were too busy with our own potion to pay attention!” Charlus barked as Ron nodded along.

It seems Harry’s message did not come through. He mentally facepalmed while Draco was barely concealing his laughter.

The potions master sneered and took off more points for that. Harry glared at his Slytherin classmates who were obviously enjoying it. He shook his head and went back to his potion.

An hour later, Potions class passed without incident. The Gryffindors were still criticized, the Slytherins were still praised, and Harry was mostly ignored.

“Mr. Potter, please stay after class for a few minutes,” Snape said at the end of class. “The Slytherin one.”

His housemates eyed him while the Gryffindors grinned thinking he was in trouble. Charlus looked at him concerned and Ron continued to pull him out of the room.

Once Harry was all packed up, he went up to his teacher and head of the house. The raven-haired boy was dreading this moment. Snape already singled out Charlus publicly. What’s he going to do in private?

“Mr. Potter,” Snape drawled, boring his eyes into Harry’s.

“Yes, professor?” Harry said meekly.

There was silence for a moment.

“You’ve made it into Slytherin, the most noble house of snakes.”

“Yes, sir.” His voice was wavering.

“How have you accomplished such a feat?”

“What do you mean?”

The older man pinched the bridge of his hooked nose, muttering something to himself.

“What I mean is  _ how _ and  _ why _ are you in my house? Why is there a  _ Potter spawn _ in my house?”

Harry filched violently at that. He knew Snape disliked his father, but the man didn’t have to make it so obvious.

“Well… the hat placed me here. Why else?”

“Yes! That is the obvious answer, but what I want to know is  _ why _ . James Potter would never raise his child to be a Slytherin. He’s obnoxious and arrogant, having no care in the world. You don’t need looks to know that your brother’s his son; his personality and behaviour is already a carbon copy of that. So why, why did the hat put you in Slytherin?”

Harry felt his face heat up, teeth clenching, and his body shaking in anger.

This man knew nothing. Sure his father and his uncles admit they weren’t the best when they were younger, but they grew up and Harry is not James Potter. Harry is his own person. This man was starting to sound like the ‘Snivellus’ in their stories: shady and prejudice.

“You, no nothing,” the young Potter snarled. “For your information, my father raised  _ this _ boy,  _ his _ child, who is  _ not _ his father, who is a Slytherin for reasons you don’t need to know. My father grew up and he’s fine with my sorting because he loves me. My mother loves me. My uncles love me. My family loves me.  _ My brother loves me _ . I’m my own person and always have been. One sorting isn’t going to change who I am or how much my family loves me because I’m still me.”

Harry heaved after his little rant. He stiffened realizing what he said to his teacher and brought his eyes down. He didn’t want to see Snape’s reaction.

They were quiet for a moment before shuffling could be heard. The boy looked up as Snape went to retrieve something from his desk before coming back to him.

Something-a short book- was shoved into Harry’s hands as Snape sneered.

“Read this and we’ll talk about it at the meeting this weekend,” he said. “Now get out.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice and ran out.

“So, what did Snape want to talk about?”

He whipped his head towards the source-Charlus, and apparently, Ron and two of his roommates, Blaise and Theo.

“Er…”

“If he wants to answer, then he will,” Blaise said. “For all we know, that conversation was private.”

“No one asked for your opinion, you slimy snake,” Ron sneered.

“Snakes aren’t slimy,” Harry said absentmindedly.

Charlus looked at his brother. “Wanna go to Hagrid’s? He invited us over.”

Before he could answer, someone else beated him to it.

“Actually, he already has affairs at lunch planned with the Slytherins today,” Theo said.

“You do?” Charlus asked where Harry said, “I do?”

“ _ Yes _ , you do,” the thin boy answered, pulling the younger twin’s arm with him. “It seems you must’ve forgotten.”

_ I don’t think I’ve forgotten _ , Harry thought.

“Have a good day, Potter, Weasley,” Blaise said, leading them out of the dungeons.

Harry gave his brother an exasperated look before accepting his fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Alive! School work has been a PAIN! Ugh. I don't wanna do any more math. I haven't even stated my Health homework.  
> Anyway, just wanted to post a chapter to let you know I'm not abandoning this and updates will depend on how much work I receive. Seriously, what teacher purposely gives you homework for the weekend?  
> Anyway chapter's pretty short, but I didn't know what to do around this time. Hopefully the next chapter is longer than this. Or maybe I could add to this in the future... I don't know.  
> Kudos is much appreciated. Zaijian or whatever way you say goodbye in your culture/language.


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